Colors of the Wind [M]

Lymsleia sat at the edge of he gather square focusing on plants before her. A slow deep breath as she ground plants under the  small make shift tent she'd erected. "I can't believe I didn't get a chance to make these." She  breathed softly, she focused on the herbs in front of her, carefully tying them up. " Well at least I can start to change people's opinions.." She leaned back against the chair.

Her body still bore the  scars- a few physical though it was more in her change of demeanor that she'd changed.  The wild vibrant young woman had become a bit... more subdued.

"Shells! Shards and shells!" A'liran barked as he pounded his way into the gather square, leaving the bustling dining caverns far behind him. He wrapped his way around the building, meandering past a couple stragglers, eyes locked firmly on his boots as they dug into the tender grass.


You do realize that you started that one? Astoreth asked cautiously, still more than willing to come screeching at her rider's defense if she must. A'liran, blushing furiously in the wake of his latest verbal engagement.

Yeah, yeah...you're right, I kinda did he muttered, though he wasn't about to admit it to anyone else. Astoreth knew him best. Her love and amused yet supportive acknowledgement wrapped around him as he made his B-line away from the building, though a warning flash came from her and quickly stopped him in his tracks.

A'liran halted and looked up. A garden? Well, he seemed to have a magnetic skill for just tromping right into those. Why were all these women making herb gardens in the gather square?! Was he going to have to build another fence?!

Where did she get that tent?!

A'liran stopped, frowning awkwardly at the girl whose sheltered garden he'd almost trampled. Crap, what to say to avoid looking like an idiot?

At a loss, he just stood there and looked like an idiot. It would suffice for now. "What's up?"

Lymsleia looked up from her pestal and mortar. "Finishing some herbs up." she said as she smiled at him. She  bit her lip. "Actually I am trying to  get this just right, the southern plants are little different from the northern ones, and I am still trying to learn all their 'unknown' properties." she spoke calmly and confidently, as shee went back to work.  "Though I just mostly needed t get out of the healer hall." she said solemnly. She'd had heard his shouting, but pretended she hadn't and it the 'tent' wasn't much of it as it was a simply canvas stretched over some of the ground above her.

"So what was all the commotion about?"

A'liran placed his hands on his hips and nodded slowly, finding her words quite reasonable. "Healer hall blows, it's full of grumpy nurses and crazy people," he said flippantly, halfway between amused and suspiciously serious. A'liran didn't know Lym was a healer, but even if he had, he wouldn't have checked his words. He said it was 'full' of grumpy nurses and crazy people; not that everyone who worked in there was a grumpy nurse or a crazy person.

He surveyed her makeshift awning and nodded again. "I don't know crap about plants. I'm glad someone does, though. Man, I remember after the long flight over here, having to try and figure out what I could eat and what I couldn't..." Talking about the plague didn't bother A'liran. As far as he was concerned, trying to forget about it was unhealthy. It happened, and no amount of thinking or wishing otherwise would change it.

If anything, it was most important to remember.

Of course, such supposedly stirring words had no place in this conversation. The greenrider crossed his arms as looked over Lym's garden, prepared to comment on the plants until she spoke up about something entirely different.

"Commotion? Ah, just some dumbshit brownie flirting with me. Nothing too serious."

"Grumpy?" she raised eyebrow, and gave him a long hard stare. "Well see if the next time, you get an injury that needs healer-attention..." she didn't quiet  growl but she did let her voice trail off.  She finished the  herbs, and carefully attached them with a bit of plant fiber to other bundles on a long stick.

"Belive me its still a learning process even after a year, I am still having to remind myself that something may look like a similar plant back home, its may not have the same properties." she looked over her 'garden', it wasn't much just some herbs she'd brought from the hall, tied into bundles to prepare to work with.

"And what's wrong with flirting?" she smiled. "Oh, I'm Lymsleia." she said softly. "And you are?

A'liran noticed the way the girl trailed off, but he let it go. He figured if she wanted to make whatever comment was floating around in her head, he would. If not, who cared. I think she may be a healer Astoreth said unhelpfully, her observation tinted with a light hint of playful sarcasm, if that was even the right word. A'liran recognized that adorable tone and smiled widely, providing no evidence to what exactly he was grinning about.

Think I offended her?

Maybe. Those ARE possibly her friends you are insulting

Well, she should speak up! A'liran wasn't going to assume anything, least of all her feelings towards the other healers. If she was offended, she ought to say something! If she didn't, he would assume she wasn't, and that was that.

He wrinkled his nose a bit. "...There's nothing wrong with flirting if you show some sharding respect for someone else's dignity," he spat venomously, though his aggravation was clearly aimed at the unnamed aggressor back in the dining caverns. "Don't ever trust a brownrider, honey. All they want is sex, and if you aren't on their level above, you're not gonna get ANYWHERE with them, least of all through their thick skulls!"

Oh, yeah. Names. "A'liran," he said, holding his hand out. That's how you greeted young ladies, right? Handshakes?

Lymsleia took his hand and gripped it warmly. She had a firm handshake, though it was still somewhat delicate and lady like.

"No there is nothing wrong with flirty..." she paused a moment. "They didn't respect your dignity?" she questioned. "And I appologise, I've snapped at you. I.. have had it rough lately and I do appologise." she spoke gently. "Wait don't trust a brown?" she raised an eyebrow. "I thought that sterotype applied to other colors, but you know it just may be the man. Higher sex drive and... no outlet." she said the words carefully and slowly trying to keep the smile from growing on her face.

---

[sup]Edit by HL: Please remember to use the correct form of emphasis. Thank you.[/sup]

A'liran's handshake was unintentionally tight. He smiled just the same, releasing and crossing his arms again before speaking. "Nope, not a sharding shred of respect from those fuckers," he said, as if we were passing down a valuable life lesson. "I'm a greenrider, see. They think of me as a piece of meat, somethin' to chase to get their rocks off." He wasn't going to confess to being a little bit of a tease, or point out that the conduct of some of his fellow greenriders was embarrassing to say the least. Nothing excused that behavior! Being flirty wasn't an invitation, and actively choosing to interpret it as such was a jerk move.

He arched a brow. "I didn't think you snapped," he said, puzzled. What on Pern was she talking about?

Lymsleia for a moment averted her blue-grey eyes, before  nodding. "I thought I did. I've been on edge a little lately." she admits.

For a second she thought she'd said too much  but as she reveled in  the green rider's hand shake, she smiled a little. "I see, well aren't most green rider's a smidgen flirty? I mean I guess most peopleare considering there is practicaly a mandate to push the population numbers up." she snorted. " I think --- not that it matters- but what is your opinion on the  population of the Weyr? And I must admit you are.. easy on the eyes."

A'liran's nostrils flared.

"That," he said, waving his index finger like a weapon, "Is a nasty stereotype that is not true in the slightest!" His chest puffed up with a sudden rush of undignified self-righteousness. "We greenriders are notall flirty, and we certainly don't deserve to be treated like weird sexual fodder for the riders of male dragons!"

Now, his anger wasn't necessarily aimed at Lym, though her comment had certainly provoked it. No. No! She was a stolen, one of the Weyr's unfortunate captives, and obviously she needed to be properly informed of the injustices inherent in dragonrider society. Best she learn now, and best she learn from someone other than the lying ballsack that called himself Weyrleader!

"It's preposterous, isn't it?! They expect us greens to be sexual outlets for their ineffective flight-loser hardons, and...oh, don't get me sharding started on the population issue! They expect girls that they kidnapped to bring here to have children? It's not like the male candidates are expected to do something annoying, degrading and sharding difficult before they get to stand! It sharding kills the purpose of bringing people here if they can't stand! Threadfall alive, it pisses me off!"

He wrinkled his nose. He's thoroughly answered her question somehow, right?

"Oh...thanks," he said, almost recoiling at the comment on his appearance, for he had no idea how to interpret it. He was still worked up from his rant. In fact, he rather felt like continuing.

"See now, if the damn brownriders wanna hit on me, why don't they do it THAT way? Polite and without the groping?!" he spat.

"But Ali!" Z'ia's voice purred in the usual manner, the tiny bluerider appearing from the depths of between to taunt his favourite victim about the injustice of his life, and how much he loved it. "You love the groping." Wrapping his arms around A'liran's waist, Z'ia grabbed a handful of the taller man's crotch, and issued an almost threatening squeeze. The short man's head slid under A'liran's arm to lean cosily against his side, but any threatening move from the greenrider would have the young man's teeth digging into the feisty bitch's ribs.

"Oh, he puts on a show," Z'ia said happily to Lymsleia, smiling sweetly as he continued to play with his handful of A'liran's junk. "But he doesn't really mean it. Do you, sweet cheeks?" There was a low, underlying threat to the words spoken then, a deepening of Z'ia's playful purr that indicated A'liran would be best off answering it in the way Z'ia wanted to hear - or he'd have to make him. Actually, Z'ia was all for either option. He enjoyed seeing A'liran crumple and do as the tiny bluerider demanded of him. But he also thoroughly enjoyed the battles before he managed to get the precious little princess to do so.

"Would you like to see him naked?" Z'ia's dark green eyes were focused on Lymsleia as he spoke, still with his head leaning casually against A'liran's side, a handful of the taller man's crotch keeping him from fleeing or attacking. Even if his actions hadn't sparked a response in the greenrider, he knew that would send him off the deep end. Offering him up on a platter to the pretty little dark skinned girl like it was Z'ia's very right? The bluerider gave a wicked smirk, a final squeeze, with a trace of teeth over A'liran's side as he darted out of the other man's personal space and danced around him a little, to watch with deep enthusiasm the expression on the other man's face.

"Awe, Ali! You look delectable." Z'ia's voice was a deep, sensual purr. When was that green minx flying again? Oh Right. Who needed a flight?

Lymsleia nodded. "No I agree, its not right, but then what do you expect.. Only golds make babie, so the green dragons are considered...  exactly that fodder for the sexual lusts of the other males..." she makes a disapproving gesture with her  left hand.

"The population issue is my bug. I've been providing contraceptive herbs to any girl who wants it.." she made a shushing gesture. "If D'ren doesn't like it he can ship me back home." She smiled conspiratorially at the greenrider. " Too bad leadership in the weyr is based on the color of the dragon.." she kicked the ground. "I think its a stupid system. Anyone who's qualified should---" the voice of a third party surprised her. And his actions... well Lymsleia tried not to stare. Her blue-grey eyes bounced up and down and over Z'ia for a long moment. He was attractive too.. what was up with all the attractive males?

"Would I like to?" Lymsleia's mind raced, naked males... Another one offering to make the other naked. She  suppressed a chuckle.

"If anything, sir, I'd like to see you..." Her smile predatory. "Ahh just kidding.." she added.  She placed a hand to her chest. Her heartbeat was skyhigh. But she fought the urge to continue playing the game. "I'll pass  on that.. also do you not think  that Ali'ran, should be offering.. not you? What are you his lover? " She smiled.  Though she realized she may have stuck her foot in her mouth again this time. She glanced at Ali'ran, with their prior conversation how would he react?

A'liran smirked, obviously approving of Lym's little plan. "If the Weyrleader doesn't like it, he can suck my balls," he declared, looking either proud of himself or pleased at the image. Perhaps both. Of course, before he could make any further comment, his moral supremacy was uninterrupted by an unfamiliar interjection.

Z'ia. That bastard.

A'liran's head snapped to one side, eyes widening as the bluerider appeared. Before he could escape, Ali felt himself caught in the slippery little bluerider's grip. "Hey! Z'ia, let me go!" A'liran snapped. Much to his distress, when he wiggled free he found himself bound at both the groin and the ribs, one trapped by fingers and the other by teeth. A'liran hissed as he felt Z'ia's teeth digging into his ribs, presumably a punishment for trying to escape.

"Let GO of me!" A'liran hissed again, furious eyes flashing between Z'ia and Lym. Much to his shame, he felt a stirring of arousal in his groin, created by the bluerider's unwelcome touch. A'liran's body didn't know one touch from another, but it infuriated him just the same.

Now, the offering really pissed him off. A'liran went from confused and aggravated to absolutely enraged in the space of a single second. As the little bluerider skillfully detangled himself, A'liran closed his fist and let loose a punch. "Fuck you, Z'ia! You cocksucking gutterslut!" A'liran barked. He closed both fists and watched the bluerider cautiously, a hair-trigger away from flying after the little fuck.

A'liran shot a look to Lymsleia. "No, he is NOT my lover! He's part of the sharding problem I was just talking about!" he explained hurriedly. "You'd better get away from him, young lady! I wouldn't be sharding surprised if he..." The look of warning in his eyes was very real.

Couldn’t a guy walk through the Square anymore without women doing something foolish or a greenrider having a fit? D’hys rolled his eyes when he saw a woman surrounded by some random items with Z’ia bounding over to pick on her, or rather, A’liran. He watched in silent amusement from several yards away; just close enough to hear everything but far enough away to not be spotted by the group until he wanted them to. When Z’ia bounced away and A’liran looked ready to kill while flinging his protests, D’hys deemed it time to intervene though he hadn’t decided if he would join in, take over, or break up the party as he stepped in.

“No, but you’re mine until your next flight, babe,” D’hys gave an arrogant smirk as he easily swooped in behind A’liran and grabbing his wrists to restrain him from attacking Z’ia. “And potentially long after that if you keep entertaining me like you are.” He enjoyed the feisty attitude and wasn’t ready to toss away such a fun sport just yet. Not quite done with teasing the man by reminding him what they had after the flight, D’hys flicked one of A’liran’s earlobes with his tongue and purred, “did you miss me, A’liran?” He hadn’t missed the way the greenrider seemed to go out of his way to avoid him but he let it continue, fully confident that there would be a perfect time to catch up again; like now.

He eyed up Lymsleia, noting that while she was pretty, he was fairly certain he had seen her on the Sands with the last clutch. That was more than enough to have dismissed as not worth his time and he told Z’ia as much, “Z’ia, don’t waste your time with the girl. She’s a Candidate. Leave her to the likes of R’nd.” Candidates had never been his thing. At Igen, they were largely far too young for his tastes and at Katila, they were mostly Stolen from the North and whined far more than needed. He wasn’t interested in their sob stories – he didn’t even like to think on his own – and only wanted a good fuck, not some clinging and whiny mess.

“But this one, once again, seems far more interesting.” D’hys leaned around A’liran just enough to get a good look at him, keen eyes zeroing in on the greenrider’s crotch and the noticeable erection pressing against the pants, “I notice he liked your touch as well.”

"Fuck you?" Z'ia's words were deeply amused as he spun around, using the force behind A'liran's badly landed punch to assist the movement, not at all put out by it - instead, he was highly amused and the blueriders eyes were sparkling with his laughter. "Baby, you needn't ask." He was smirking, hovering just out of the feisty bitch's reach when D'hys swept in to secure the other man's wrists. Z'ia gave a bark of laughter, delighted and thrilled by the turn of events. "He lives for it," Z'ia purred sweetly, eyes boring into A'liran's.

The little bluerider ignored D'hys' comment about ignoring Lymsleia, caught up watching instead with a slowly twisting smile the way A'liran was trying to warn her, and so serous about it, too! Eyes darkening wickedly, Z'ia slipped forward to be up in the greenrider's space, the shorter man arching an eyebrow as he grabbed A'liran's jaw and twisted his face to look down at him. "What's the matter, Princess? Afraid of sharing?" Z'ia let his hand trail from the centre of A'liran's collarbone down the length of his body, stopping tauntingly at the hem of the greenrider's pants. His smirk intensified.

"Don't you think she'd just love to play with us?" Z'ia's voice was a soft coo, and his fingers dropped a little lower, taunting, before he stepped back suddenly and swung his arm out, releasing A'liran's jaw in the process and grabbing a hold of Lymsleia's wrist. Giving her a solid tug, he forcefully brought her over to join their little group. His grip on her wrist was tight, secure and sure to bruise her delicate dark skin. His eyes were vicious, but despite Lymsleia being the sudden target of his physical actions, the bluerider's entire attention was focused on making A'liran twitch. Making him feel helpless. Useless.

"She even wants it," He hissed, giving Lymsleia's wrist a little shake as he intentionally misinterpreting what both greenrider and candidate had said with a wicked smirk. "Not going to skimp out on the pretty lady, are you?" There was a deepening of his words once more, an eyebrow arching, daring A'liran to be difficult. Inviting A'liran to make a scene, to cause an issue. To still end up submitting.

Lymsleia blinked, Ali'ran was RIGHT, these men were crazy. Or at least Zi'a was bad news. she struggled to breath. The scent of wild and to her some what feral testerone made her feel  excited, she beat it back and beat it down with an energy to rival the attempts at least one male.

Stupid sharding--" she felt her fingers twitch as Zia grabbed her wrist. Pain shot through her arm and on impulse she reached for the motar and pestl she'd be using.  Without a second thought she let it fly , aiming distinctly for Z'ia. "LEt go  you penis sucking monster!" she hurled the words like she hurled the  motar and pestle- with anger. She didn't like Z'ia not really, his face was attractive but his attitude was abbhorent.  The pain that ran through her arm reminded her of the pontiental danger she was in. If she played along maybe she'd be somewhat safer? Right?

The mortar and pestle had been her only weapon and now it was gone from her hand. "And I am NOT insterest in you... or in any of your play..." she glanced at Ali'ran and D'hys. "Can you see he's not interested. Sure physical response is one thing... a breast feeding mother will still produce milk even if the child crying isn't her own... so even though he maybe responseive... its only the touch not anything emotional. Leave him BE." She bellowed the last. Lymsleia stated the first part as if she'd read from a text book, but she glanced between the three men, could she soak D'hys and Z'ia's fires and get them to leave Ali'ran and herself alone. Random, trivial, and true facts might just do it.

  She tried to edge closer to Ali'ran and tried to smile, though the sight of an aroused man, and the fact that his pants were perhaps emphasising made eyes draw downward. "I understand, Ali'ran - he is... these two are definately part of a larger problem."

This was bad.

A'liran grunted and recoiled as he felt strong hands close around his wrists. It was too late. He'd already been captured. The greenrider hissed in displeasure as he glanced over his shoulder, met by the handsome face of his most recent flight winner. A'liran's eyes narrowed. He'd known these two were friends, or at least were seen together at times. He'd hoped Z'ia would continue his past trend of harassing A'liran on his own time rather than including his buddies. After the flight, and perhaps just as much the little squabble in the gather square right before it, that didn't seem likely anymore. D'hys was here now, swooping in like some sort of predator, and now A'liran was trapped between two of them.

As Z'ia approached, A'liran flattered his back against D'hys. It wasn't a preference, at least not in his mind, but merely an instinct. As A'liran felt the hand close around his chin, however, he realized just how trapped he really was.

Now he faced two of them, and they were entirely different demons. Z'ia was the greenrider's ancient enemy, terrifyingly forward and outwardly dangerous. D'hys was something new and horrifying; while A'liran liked to play his games of denial, it enraged him t find himself on the end of someone else's puppet strings. A'liran didn't go searching for a good lay without at least pretending like he was the one in control. After that flight, though...D'hys had played him like a fiddle.

Z'ia toyed with the greenrider's emotions enough to make him mad and lure him into tantrums, but A'liran had never slept with Z'ia outside of flight or physical force. Z'ia had left scars, but D'hys was a siren. Perhaps A'liran could hold his own against one of them, but both at the same time?

The greenrider suddenly went limp. What had D'hys said? You’re mine until your next flight, babe. What a sexy voice. And  Z'ia, with his delicate, taunting touch...It was too much. A'liran could feel his erection straining against the fabric of his pants and his face heating up in shame.

"Let go of me," the greenrider hissed between his teeth, hands shaking in a mixture of outrage and fear. He was terrified, and he didn't know how to deal with such overwhelming fear other than through anger. He didn't dare struggle, though. They had him trapped, and struggling would only give them an excuse to hurt him. Z'ia looked like he wanted it. That must have been his motivation! Don't fall for it!

So the greenrider slumped compliantly, unwilling to look Z'ia in the face of acknowledge D'hys' attempt to inspect him. For a few long seconds,  A'liran was a good greenrider. Then, of course, the bastards found a new button to push.

A'liran's troubled thoughts were disrupted by the sound of Lymsleia lashing out against Z'ia. A'liran's jaw dropped. "Let her go!" he snapped, forgetting all about his fears for himself and his horrible sense of defeated shame as he tugged violently against D'hys' grip. "She didn't sharding do anything to you! Your beef is with me, you punk ass blue! We both know I'm the one you're after, you sick fuck!"

How dare he use an innocent for leverage!? A'liran struggled wildly now, throwing all of his strength and weight into trying to escape the other bleuriders's grip. D'hys, however, was strong. A'liran growled in sudden frustration and twisted around as much as he could, making his best effort to bite the bastard.

"Now now, sweetheart, don't be like that." Z'ia's voice was lingering somewhere between a soft, taunting purr and a low rumbled warning of impending pain if the feisty little bitch didn't mind her manners. Twisting Lymsleia's arm around, he jerked the young woman to him, having easily side stepped her attempt to throw the small item at him. Z'ia was used to dodging heartfelt attacks from A'liran - a badly aimed toss from a flighty woman was hardly going to do any damage, even if it had been even close to hitting him. Z'ia smirked, before laughing outright at the name Lymsleia called him.

"I don't think so," he purred, attention returning to the greenrider, thrilling in the way A'liran suddenly came to life. Z'ia's blood was boiling wickedly just under the surface and flushing his cheeks excitedly, his entire body tingling with delight. Dark green eyes glared up viciously at the taller man, watching him struggle against D'hys' sure grip; there was no way the feisty little bitch would be able to escape the bluerider's grip. Z'ia laughed again, an oddly bright sound, as the green whore spun around, obviously anxious to escape, and attempted to bite D'hys. Despite being well aware that it would take more than a green whore's teeth to force D'hys' to release anyone, Z'ia's lips twisted into a wicked smirk as he decided it was time to re-distract A'liran.

The tiny bluerider slipped forward, jerking Lymsleia along with him though he had mostly forgotten about the feisty candidate; all of his attention was focused on the struggling greenrider as he grabbed A'liran's hip in his free hand. Holding the taller man mostly still he pressed forward, grinding against him forcefully. Sinking his teeth heavily into A'liran's exposed neck, Z'ia bit down hard even as he released Lymsleia with a harsh shove, his now freed hand diving into A'liran's pants. His touch was light, delicate, almost gentle for several breaths before his fingers curled almost cruelly; threatening. A wicked expression twisted his lips as he pulled away from A'liran's neck, barely loosening his grip so skin was forced to slid through the narrow gap between his teeth.

"You really don't like sharing, do you?" Z'ia's voice was full of sweet sugar, heavy and dangerous. Green eyes were dark with vicious lust, and a burning enthusiasm for the greenrider's responses. Secure in the belief that his grip would keep the green slut still, Z'ia flexed his fingers several times before pressing his shorter body up close against A'liran once more, his hand on the whore's hip shifting around to slide between green and bluerider bodies, grabbing a handful of arse.

"Let's play then." He whispered, voice soft and sweet, delicate as he rose on his toes to place a tender, fleeting kiss lightly on A'liran's lips. "Just you, me," Z'ia's face twisted wickedly, and he leaned up to breathe huskily into A'liran's ear, "And D'hys."

D’hys levelled a dry look on Lymsleia when she started tossing insults at Z’ia and attempted to bore them all with some babbling about the woman’s body. Did the girl really think that would work? They were both quite familiar with the female form and both quite adept at tuning out the nonsense they spouted. It would have been the same this time as well if she hadn’t been stupid enough to throw heavy objects at his friend. Annoyance was heard in the sigh that whispered by A’liran’s head but grey eyes narrowed into that of a warning for Lymsleia. Naturally, Z’ia continued to laugh it off, his wild side spiking into the dangerous levels. If the girl knew what was good for her, she’d shut up and pretend she wasn’t around.

A’liran, however, D’hys was glad to see still had some fight in him. The bluerider held his grasp on wrists firm and he easily angled himself just enough to avoid the attacking mouth, not at all interested in being bitten. He was the one that did the biting! And Z’ia, as his spunky friend proved soon after. When A’liran started to struggle and defend the woman, D’hys rolled his eyes and shook his head at the poor greenrider, “open your pretty little eyes, A’liran. The woman is insulting Z’ia and threw things at him. She most certainly did do something.” It was amazing how people could spin things to their way of thinking when the truth was so clear and aligned with his own thinking.

“But you should go, woman. You were dismissed once and didn’t take the chance, perhaps now you’ll know better and jump at the offer. Run along and play with your flowers while the men continue their discussion.” D’hys wasn’t about to let go of A’liran to wave Lymsleia away but he did motion with a jerk of his head to emphasize his words that she should scram. Of course, given her type, she’d likely run for help, likely right to the Weyrleader. That was fine; they wouldn’t be here if she did return with back-up. A’liran would never rat them out anyway, D’hys was sure of that. The greenrider knew doing so would only bring down more of Z’ia’s wrath and D’hys was convinced A’liran actually did like the games played that boiled his blood and made for hot sex after all the harassing.

Convinced that this time Lymsleia would leave and everyone was inclined to let her, D’hys focused on Z’ia’s current game. Somehow, in his attempt to keep A’liran from swinging at Z’ia, D’hys was now being used as restraints for his friend to get away with everything he wanted. It was tempting to let go and see what kind of chaos would ensue but that would take away the control he held and D’hys wasn’t in the mood for that. “Z’ia and I on the other hand, are very good at sharing,” he purred against A’liran’s other ear, as he latched onto the idea of having some fun with both men that evening. “Even you will be lacking in complaints by the time we’re done with you.”

Figuring it was about time to let their catch go or cart him off elsewhere before a crowd gathered and only encouraged Z’ia to be even more wicked than usual, D’hys turned his attention to his fellow bluerider, his own wicked intent evident with the gleam in his eye and grin on his lips. “Z’ia, think he’ll willingly follow or should I toss him over a shoulder and carry our dear greenrider home?”

A'liran's eyes widened cautiously as Z'ia approached, dragging Lymsleia behind like an afterthought. A'liran cast the girl a pleading look as Z'ia released her, begging her to run and save herself. Ast...help this girl get out of here he requested urgently, calling out to the distant green dragon as he wriggled in D'hys' grasp.

Astoreth was concerned. Her fear brushed the edges of A'liran's senses, calling questioningly to him as his mind raced. A'liran swallowed hard and did his best to reassure her. Don't worry about me, baby girl. I'm gonna be fine! he insisted. While skeptical, the green withdrew, resolving to worry herself no more. She was not a particularly clever dragon, and in many ways this was just business as usual among the Weyr's humans. It often confused Astoreth. She played much the same games as A'liran, always with the intention of getting caught. Why did Ali seem so unhappy when he got caught? Outside of proper flights, of course.

She projected a helpful word to Lymsleia, encouraging her that A'liran would be fine, though it was hard for the green to hide her own doubts. Dry and usually quite proud, it look a lot of nagging doubts for her to finally reach out.She spoke to neither A'liran nor Z'ia, but instead to D'hys. A'liran would just ignore her in some twisted effort to protect her from the truth. Z'ia wasn't worth talking to.

Protect him from harm Astoreth asked softly, her deep voice showing only a hint of her restrained concern. A'liran didn't hate this bluerider like he did the other. In fact, A'liran seemed almost allured by him, albeit in a selfish and uncertain way. D'hys was interesting and appealing, but didn't give A'liran that sick feeling that Z'ia did.

Astoreth wondered briefly what that feeling was.

A'liran was unaware of Astoreth's quiet concern. His body stiffened as Z'ia's teeth bit into his defenseless flesh. "Fuck!" A'liran snapped. Normally, the pain would have been arousing, but this had gone too far. A'liran was guilty of doing stupid, even dangerous things in search for attention. Most of the time he was able to wiggle away. Sometimes, he paid for it. This time, however, he hadn't even done anything wrong. He was purely a victim, neither an instigator nor an aggressor. Even his teasing didn't truly justify Z'ia's frequent attacks on him, but this was unspeakable.

In spite of all his fire, A'liran was frightened.  This wasn't a game anymore. He writhed, trying to free himself from between the two stronger men's bodies. Their physiques were much like their games; A'liran could have held his own against one or the other, but together they were unbeatable. He fought them regardless, unwilling to show his fear if he didn't have to, though D'hys could perhaps feel the greenrider's hands shaking at his sides.

"Don't even try it," A'liran hissed venomously to Z'ia, trying desperately to wrench himself from D'hya's grip as he felt Z'ia's hand closing on his backside. A'liran knew better than to hope that D'hya would save him or even speak in his defense. Those suspicions were quickly confirmed; D'hys was evidently content to drag A'liran along to his unwanted fate.

A'liran scowled and dug his heels in before falling limp, dead-weighting himself in D'hys's arms. Fine! If these assholes wanted a fight, A'liran would give them one...every inch of the way. His heart pounded. Was it starting to feel like a game again? Or was he telling himself that it was, so he could at least pretend to have some control?

Lymsleia played limp. She tried to play dead weight as anger welled inside her. "I am sorry." she whispered to Ali'ran.  At the arrival of the green dragon she nooded "I.. understand." she muttered to the green. Though she picked up  her small knife.  she turned towards Z'ia and Dhys..  "Look .. you two have done things that are deplorable.." she muttered to them. "And... you should know that... I don't play with flowers... I can brew up something that'll make you go so limp.." she spat the words, surprised momentarily by her own venom. She'd never wanted to use her herbalism for 'bad things' but in this case perhaps the lesson was warrented.

Z'ia's calculating blue eyed gaze turned slowly and maliciously onto the little healer girl as she started babbling her bullshit again, the bluerider arching an eyebrow in amusement as she lifted a knife like it was a sword. Like it would do any good against himself or D'hys. Stupid little whore!

Z'ia's hand flew out once more, dodging the knife and grasping Lymsleia about the wrist. His fingers tightened threateningly; the grip almost tight enough that any further and he'd start snapping the delicate bones within. He didn't let himself get away with quite that much - not yet!

Without warning, Z'ia twisted Lymsleia's arm tightly, his lip curling until she dropped the knife. If the girl voiced any objections or cries of pain, they fell on deaf ears as Z'ia jerked the girl forward, until she collided into his chest. "Just you try." Z'ia's voice hissed between his teeth and into Lymsleia's face. "You don't know what pain is, bitch!" With a harsh shove, Z'ia sent Lymsleia tumbling into Astoreth.

Take her away, before he really hurts her. Aveleth's quiet, meek voice brushed gently against the mind of the green, his words far more a request than a demand. If the girl hung around any longer, Aveleth knew she wouldn't leave without broken bones and drawn blood. He didn't need Z'ia in that kind of trouble!

"I do believe," the short bluerider purred delightedly, "that sounds amazing." A psychotic grin twisted Z'ia's lips and his gaze darkened with lusty excitement. This would be so much fun! Two simple words hissed between smirking lips; "Let's go."

D’hys couldn’t stop the gasp of shock as a very obviously female voice entered his mind. That alone was enough of a surprise for the bluerider used to his own male dragon talking to him but then to have Astoreth ask him to protect him from harm? D’hys was pretty sure he was supposed to be considered part of the problem considering he was the one binding A’liran so efficiently, but the greenpair knew Z’ia’s wild side as well, perhaps even better, than he did and in comparison, D’hys knew he was currently viewed as harmless. He glanced toward Astoreth, studying her for a moment and finally nodded. I will. Of course he would; there wasn’t any fun in breaking your playmate, now was there?

Unfortunately before he could really begin teasing the greenrider that he had to correct his way of holding to account for his dead-weight trick, the healer girl spoke again. He rolled his eyes and sighed once again in annoyance as Lymsleia waved around a knife and further threatened them with poison. “Little girl, we’re blueriders, my father is a brownrider, and I have several friends among the higher ranks, do you really think it wise to,” his explanation that a Candidate that was constantly getting into trouble and could probably earn herself into solitary confinement at his urging ended before it was meant to as Z’ia took matters into his own hands. He had to admit, the idea of forcing the knife from her hand was tempting and he was glad Z’ia did it before the foolish girl did something she’d regret or upset one of the three riders’ dragons all nearby.

He was also glad that Z’ia stopped when he did though even explaining any injury the girl received would be easy when calling it self-defence. No doubt even A’liran would agree with them with the right sort of persuading. Shaking his head at the way some women acted around men and trying to stifle a laugh at Zeianth’s comment about the girl clearly wanting to be used by all three men at once with the way she kept lingering and they should just do it and shut her up, D’hys returned his attention to his playmates. “Come now, babe. There’s no need to act like that. I can easily scoop you up even with you playing dead or,” he leaned in and without waiting to see what sort of reaction his closeness would bring, D’hys gave a languid swipe of his tongue along A’liran’s jaw, “we could just fuck you right here. I don’t mind an audience.”

With a laugh, D’hys was turning A’liran around and with as smoothly as he could with any squirming to work against, he had the greenrider flung over his right shoulder with his left hand giving a firm smack to his ass. “But I think tonight Z’ia and I want to keep you to ourselves. Lead on, Z’ia.”

Lymsleia found herself shaking. The moment Z'ia twisted her arm. She say stars. This was not one her self-made stories. There wouldn't be any good ending- that much she knew.  But she didn't like going on like this. She hated the way she was treated, all because she didn't have penis- what stupid reasoning.

She felt her lips twitch. She felt her breath catch, but she focused on  the riders. "Oh.. so now you leave me, to go play with him. I see. maybe grandfather was right... you riders tend to rut amoungst yourselves..." she let her words trail she couldn't actually remember the reason her grandfather said those things. But when Dhy's responded to her she exhaled loudly. "You know what. somehow I think  you men place to much emphasis on rank..." She gritted her teeth,  her wrist hurt where Z'ia'd made the bones grind together.

  She turned away from the riders, walking slowly. The  pain of her body, made her realize how little she meant to riders. They could kill her , replace her, turn her into a brood mare... and still never respect her. Never- ever.
 
  It stung, the stark and cold reality, that she as a female was simple ' object' 'breeder' to the Weyr and probably worth less than a herd beast  to them stung her sense of pride.  She'd deluded herself, on stories she'd told herself to explain the world in the dark  , and lonely , isolation of her grand-father's home in Falen's Hold.
 
  Here, an ocean away, these rider had impressed upon her what her grandfather had tried to beat into her every day of her life. That women could be easily wiped out of the records, their only legacy was what their bodies produced-- and even then- sometimes they were simply unwanted burdens on he rest of the community.
 
  She turned her back to the riders, they're stupid  rutting, though she  worried for Ali'ran, he was probably going to come out of thise black and blue if Z'ia had anything to do with it.

Geeze you guys, you're making this more and more interesting, though now I worry how bad Lymsleia's normally fiery personality is going to be affected. She seems to be taking nasty blows (emotionally.)

Astoreth hissed lightly and unfolded one emerald wing, wrapping it protectively around Lymsleia as both A'liran and Aveleth's requests. The green watched with anxious yellow eyes and awaited D'hys' response, which while not exactly reassuring, was sufficient for now. She knew better than to fully trust the man. He was so obviously part of the problem. But who else could she ask for help? The Weyrleader's bronze would do nothing, but all he saw was a typical game among blue and greenriders. Astoreth wasn't even sure she understood it herself.

The green swung her head towards Aveleth, looking at him accusingly. He is miserable because of yours. Do not dare speak to me! she said, soft mindvoice trembling with emotion as she lowered her had. She whispered softly to Lymsleia, her anger barely restrained; Climb on. A'liran wishes for me to get you to safety she said, trying to sound gentle in spite of her anger and fear.

Why did she ever consent to fly with Aveleth? Why, when his rider was such a beast? She lamented her past decisions and resolved to remember better when her next flight came, but something about that sentiment seemed awfully familiar. Would she just forget, as she always did?

The green took off.

A'liran, meanwhile, was trying his best to shut both Astoreth and the blueriders out. He snarled something unintelligible at  D'hys and tried one final time to wrench himself free, but he was helpless. The greenrider quickly found himself hanging over D'hys' shoulder, blood frozen at the threat of a public show. He clawed angrily at the man's back as he endured the humiliating slap to his backside.

What could he say? What could he say to try and get the last word in before they...

Shards, there was nothing! The frustrated greenrider felt hot tears welling up in his eyes. It wasn't every day that he landed in this situation without inviting it upon himself at least in part. He bit his lip and became conscious of a metallic taste only moments after. He slumped, surrendering, but not without digging his fingernails in as hard as he could.